A Northern GOd
by Divine Ray
Summary: A divine soul is coming into the song with his own aim, lets see if he break the wheel or completely make the wheelto his own image.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER – 1**

**CASTLE OF WINTER**

Percy Jackson was fully awake, looking at the hell around him that even the worst titan can only remember now with horror.

"At least _she's _safe," muttered Percy under his breath. Annabeth's blue eyes flitted in his mind and as though zapped, Percy started his journey into the dark abyss…..

Ned Stark was kneeling in front of the ancient heart tree of Winterfell. His thoughts were far away and his face was cold and grim as ever. The recent events were quite troubling and this confused the old man. Jon, his bastard son had apparently changed, according to Maester Luwin. It wasn't that he couldn't see the changes himself. He never really confessed to anyone that the molten gold colored pupils that had replaced Jon's Grey ones bothered him. Even though he remained respectful towards him, Jon had become extremely cold and distant towards the rest of the family, especially towards Catelyn.

Ned sighed and pondered over the report he had read in the morning regarding Jon's status. Jon was shifted two months ago to a remote hut in the mountains under the instructions from his wife in response to the mysterious sickness that he had developed. His generally uneventful stay was interrupted two weeks ago by a stray lightning strike that happened to hit the makeshift cottage at midnight. The guards on duty had witnessed the cottage going up in flames but Jon emerged from the side, unscathed.

Upon preliminary analysis by Maester Luwin himself, four hours after the incident, Jon was declared to be completely cured of his sickness and to be in excellent health. The change in eye colour was yet to be understood and he couldn't find any signs of infection.

The sudden change in Jon's demeanour was what really concerned Ned. Of course, he was happy to see his son alive and close by him but he desperately wished to see the old crinkling smile and enthusiasm that Jon had. He wanted Jon to be respectful to Cate no matter how cold she was to him. He wanted him to be the cheerful lad that he used to be.

A sudden pick in the wind blew snow into his eyes and the lord of Winterfell stood up with a sigh. The heartwood's red eyes seemed to contemplate along with him. After a brief mental exchange, he turned his back to the tree, and started off towards home.

For the last time, Jon turned in his bed. The restless day had left his mind buzzing and he was thirsty for more. His new but annoying friend, Percy had been a good mentor for the past week and he has learned so much from him.

_All those maester and scholars in the citadel would kill for half the things that I know now_, thought Jon. Percy seemed to be asleep and he decided not to poke him. After all, it must have taken him considerable effort, at least mentally, to teach Jon all those complex sword movements and analysis in such a short time. Jon was now confident that he would be able to take even Ser Rodrick, one of North's fiercest warriors. Percy was dear to him now and he would do _anything_ to please him…..

Coming through to a new reality as nothing but a soul was quite an unpleasant experience and nobody could have prepared Percy for it. The only relief he had was that he had a soul to work with, which could have been easily erased by _**him**_, had he not done the ritual. It was fortunate or even fateful that a mortal body was in the vicinity when Percy squeezed through. The child was sick, with an unstable fever ravaging his body. He was almost at the brink of death but the magical energy seeping out of his body was clearly noticeable. Percy's soul was in search of such a body but the physical weakness of it provided quite a challenge for the son of Poseidon once he settled down in his new host. The choice was actually brilliant although in the long term.

But what worried Percy even more was Jon's tie to a prophecy that seemed to be as important as the great prophecy that he was tied to, years ago. Although he couldn't say for sure, Percy's interference was unprecedented and it must have altered Jon's role.

"Well, what's done is done," murmured Percy's soul while Jon slept. He couldn't sleep himself but merely rest. "I'll have to see where this boy will take me." Percy's thoughts stretched on as he started on thoughts of new battle stances and how he could perfect the boy's body for the complex magic and the excruciating journey he was intending to put him through…

**DUE TO SOO MANY ERRORS IN THE STORY THAT MY READERS KINDLY POINTED OUT, I DECIDED TO REWRITE IT AND HERE THE FIRST CHAPTER AND A BIG THANKS TO ALL MY FELLOW READERS AND TO MY DEAR FRIEND WHO GREATLY HELP ME TO REFINE THIS STORY.. **


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER – 2**

**WOODS OF OLD ONES**

The hard falling snow and the eerie quiet surrounding Winterfell's courtyard were perfect for the hooded person. It took considerable nerve to walk through Winterfell in the dead of night and the only glow in the castle came from the Archer's posts where a slow fire burned. The person took a turn near the old weapon shack and climbed through a break in the fence, into the path towards Godswood. Uneasiness was evident when the person walked hurriedly through the cold but it could easily have been excitement. Jon Snow's golden eyes caught a snow fox spying on him from behind a Maple tree. He decided to ignore it and drew his hood closer.

"_Looks like a snow storm_", Jon chuckled internally, knowing Percy could hear him.

"_More like a Snow storm with murderous intents_", Percy replied silently with no indication of humour. It has to be _them, _he thought. He never thought his attempt at calling out to the old gods would receive this much of an attention. Although this was the first time he had heard from them, Percy was sure they knew about his presence all along. After all, a rip in the Space-Time Continuum isn't normally something that you overlook.

The path in the woods came to an end and Jon entered the ring of trees with the ancient heart tree in its centre. Jon had visited the place many times before but the sight of the heartwood caught his breath short. The carven tree was lit up in a golden glow and it seemed to pulse with power every few seconds. Percy had only seen this once before and his mouth formed a grim line.

Jon cried out and turned his face away from the searing light. The carved faces on the tree seemed even more alive and the tears burned a bright red. The frozen pool close to the tree had wisps of vapour coming off of it, as though the its surface was hot.

"I think it's-", began Jon. The light went out and the glade was silent.

It was as though it had never happened. The only sign of the whole thing was the vapours coming off the pool which quickly stopped, owing to the raging wind.

Jon decided to wait for a minute before saying anything. Percy was silent. "I can feel them. Their power."

"_Good. You should be."_ Percy's voice was tense and distracted.

"You okay Percy? You seem a bit off." The surface of the pond cracked loudly and a bit of water sloshed to the edges.

"That clears it", muttered Jon and fixed his sleeve.

"_Go to the tree. Towards the face_", said Percy silently.

Jon moved towards the ancient Heart tree and stared at the silent, contemplative face carved on it. He admitted it didn't look half as cool in the middle of the night and tried not to fix on how the tears looked just like blood. Percy's silence was unnerving as he rarely kept to himself and liked to converse with him.

"_It's decided then. Keep your right hand on the, uh, forehead_", said Percy.

"Whoa wait. What?" Jon took a step back. "I'm _not _gonna touch that."

Percy rolled his eyes internally. "_Just do it, will you? Or do you want me to do it? Like last time?"_

"Hey, hey back off_",_ Jon held up his hands defensively. "We had a deal dude. Respect it."

"_All right, all right. I won't do it but you gotta do the stuff I ask you to if you wanna leave this place and rise up to the glory I've planned for us."_ Percy's voice was firm.

"Yeah, OK." Jon considered it for a moment. "And stop rolling your eyes. Feels weird in my head."

Percy rolled his eyes for the millionth time. Jon sighed and took off his wolf fur gauntlet. The cold burned his hand but he stretched it to the cracked tree's surface.

Nothing happened for a while. Jon looked back into the bushes that covered the clearing and saw the snow fox watching him intently. He smiled at it and it disappeared quickly into the undergrowth. Jon looked back at his hand and gasped as his hands were starting to emit a faint glow. The glow began to grow and his hand till his elbow lit up, just how the tree was before. It also began to tingle a bit.

"_You might wanna close your eyes for this."_ Jon could hear Percy smiling.

"But-"

The glow consumed him and Jon Snow slumped to the ground as Percy Jackson took over.

Percy looked down at his hands and felt a rush of feelings. He didn't check out his surroundings until much later as he was too focused on his body which was exactly like how he had left it in the dark depths of Tartarus. It even had the scar on his chest that the Titan, Perses had delivered during their battle. Percy closed his eyes and concentrated for a second. He smiled slowly as he felt his old armour around his body. The armour looked like liquid darkness and it even felt so. It finished enveloping his body and the coldness of it quickly went away. A sense belonging settled in him as he relished the moment which he stripped this armour from its previous owner.

His joy at using his old body again quickly diminished when he saw where he was. In fact, he was nowhere at all. He was surrounded by a pure white environment, bare of any colours. No matter how much he focused, he couldn't see or hear anything. Even the ground where he stood was just plain white. Percy took off sprinting but stopped soon as he saw no apparent changes whatsoever to his stopping point to differentiate it from the starting point.

The silence started to get on his nerves and he called out. "HELLO!"

It echoed back and continued on for a while. Percy tried to call out for Jon but he couldn't feel anything of the brooding idiot's presence. He looked around once again and stared numbly at his armour-the only contrast in colour-and watched its futile attempt to melt into its unbearably white surroundings.

"_Hello Perseus Jackson, son of….Poseidon."_

The voice that surrounded Percy had an edge when it spoke his father's name.

"You can lose the surname. Just Perseus is fine", replied back Percy, taking care not to show his fear.

"_Interesting." _The voice droned on without much show of emotion._ "You're not of this world, Perseus Jackson. And I wonder how you entered it without my permission."_

"Well-"

"_Or any repercussions."_

The old God was silent again. Percy decided this was the best time to play his hand. "I've a proposition for you. One that'll be beneficial for you and your, uh, _Pantheon_."

The voice chuckled lightly. It was silent for a long time._ "You do realize you're in _my_ realm, demigod."_

"And yet you can exercise only limited control over me. I wonder why Frakjsf, Lord of Beasts." Percy smirked.

"_You dare?"_ The voice began to rise and somewhere Percy thought he saw a flash of red.

"If you know of Poseidon, then you know his son's terms won't be anything short of legendary. Listen to what I've to say Lord of Beasts and I assure you that you won't regret it."

"I don't care about your parentage at all Perseus Jackson. You mean nothing to me than an ant, lost a long way from its nest…"

Percy felt a slight pressure around him and understood the old God was trying to oppress him. He deflected it without much effort. The old one made no note of this and continued to do so with varying power levels. Percy silently deflected all of them, without even moving a muscle. Suddenly the effort stopped. He felt the presence moving away from him.

"Just who….Who are you really?" Percy couldn't detect any emotion at all in the voice.

"I noticed you had referred to me as a demigod. You might wanna rephrase that."

Percy was surprised to hear a loud gulp. He also felt a rush of whispers around him.

"Hmm….." The voice had a cooler note. "Tell me more about this proposition of yours…"

"I'll try to keep it short", said percy as he stretched his legs.

[Type text]

SORRY GUYS FOR THE DELAY, AND AS YOU CAN SEEN THERE IS NOTHING NEW BUT SOME REWRITE

AND I ALSO REWRITTEN THE FIRST CHAPTER AND PLEASE GUYS REVIEW ME ...SE YOU SOOON "I HOPE".


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER – 3**

**A PLOT FOR POWER**

_**ESSOS (7 YEARS BACK)**_

Alari didn't have many memories of his childhood. It was partly because he didn't really remember much of it and partly because the ones that he did weren't exactly fond. He was sold to an obese merchant when he was just 5 and that was the first journey he had ever made, away from his dying mother. The merchant was mostly kind to him although his back would have begged to disagree. After spending almost a year with the merchant, he was sold to Master Quana out of the blue. That was when made his second long journey and set foot in the slaver city of Meereen, but that was 10 years ago.

As for the, it fire had happened roughly 2 years ago. He was sleeping in a foetal position in the sheds dreaming about sweet, supple mangoes when one of the other slavers had slapped him awake and told him about the crimson fire that had risen up in the night. As they ran, the shed had taken an orange glow behind them and the smell of burning flesh filled up his nose as the cattle burned alive. Their cries had haunted him for years. In the morning, he learned that the entire family had perished in the fire and that they were free. The following days were a blur for him as the former slaves rose to power and became the masters but _he_ became greatest of all of them.

He was content now with his life. He had everything that one could desire and his fame preceded him in the other cities of Slaver's Bay. The trade networks in Bravos and Pentos were bustling as ever. This life was good and he will make something more out of it. Something spectacular.

**(Current timeline)**

Their journey outside Winterfell was easily the longest one Jon had ever made in his life. He had gotten over the guilt of leaving his family in a few days and since then, 5 years had passed. The journey, however, was excruciatingly tiring for Percy. He was used to travelling and had spent most of his time grumbling about something called "cabs" which was apparently the preferred mode of transportation in his realm.

Jon still wondered about his parents and the silence he was forced to keep really frustrated him occasionally. The letter that he had left behind must have done its job as Lord Stark had never sent any search parties after them. As for Winterfell or his parent's safety, he wasn't much concerned. Jon and Percy had combined efforts to create a shadow order, specialised in infiltration and spying. They now looked over Winterfell from the shadows, assisting wherever required but keeping a low profile. The most valuable of their connections by far was a merchant in Essos who had readily funded all of their pursuits till now. Currently they only established only in the winter kingdome in Westros. Percy still kept the real reason behind the man's willingness to help but Jon knew whatever it was, it had happened when Jon had let him take control of his body almost 2 years ago.

As of now, they were rushing ahead of schedule to the Isle of Faces. They were inside a thick forest a few hundred miles away from their destination. It was dark and Jon was alone for now, creeping towards a clearing where a slow fire burned. Percy was silent and Jon got the feeling that he wanted him to handle this alone.

From where he stood, Jon observed that the camp was crude and poorly maintained. The men circling the fire were loitering casually, easily open to attacks. Heavy swords and axes were the primary weapons but their pitiable conditions made Jon sigh. Even the scabbards were rusted and weak wooden shields were tossed here and there. Clearly they were not anticipating any attacks and were drinking and singing the night away.

After a moment, Jon walked openly into their view. It took a moment for the drunk men to notice him but when they did, the music stopped instantly. A cup of ale sloshed dangerously as a fat man stood up to look at Jon.

"Huh. A boy", he mused.

The party erupted in laughter and the man managed to spill half of his drink. The laughter died away quickly as Jon kept a hand on his scabbard, a dangerous smile on his face. He looked on at the man, who seemed to be the leader, as he took in Jon's gleaming light armour and the blade dangling from his waist.

"Certainly dressed for the part, I'll give him that", he said with a huff. This time no one laughed. They stared at each other for a few seconds and a feral grin spread across the man's scarred face.

Jon cleared his throat and addressed the clearing in a calm manner. "Dear forest people-, uh, bandits, if you will. I don't intend to introduce myself and this would be a short encounter if you did the same." No one moved a muscle and the atmosphere suddenly seemed to thicken.

Jon cleared his throat again. "I don't wish to go through all the crimes and whatnot here because I'm a busy person myself but I will give all of you two choices: either everyone here will move into the nice confines of our spectacular wall or well, you can just kill yourself." He shrugged for emphasis.

A dagger glinted for a second in the firelight as one of the troop threw it at Jon. His face flushed crimson as the boy effortlessly dodged it, the dagger lost in shadows behind him. Jon scratched his eyebrows and sighed. "This was such a nice evening", he muttered.

_[HALF AN HOUR LATER] _

Only 5 remained of the 21 bandits and they kneeled beside the fire as Jon cleaned his blade and armour. Part of the camp was a mess, with dead bandits sprawling on the grass in awkward positions.

Jon approached the tied up men but none of them dared looking him in the eye. One of them, a man with a green scarf tied to his throat was trembling like a leaf. Jon pulled him up and forced him to look at him.

"A few of my men will be here shortly to pick you people up. Till then, rest. And breathe." The man sank back to the ground.

"Now. Which one of you can point me to the nearest inn?"

_..._

Jon's blood quickened at the thought of the isle of faces. Weeks had gone by since their encounter with the bandits and two days ago he had had a good look at the mighty fortress of the Tullys. The house Tully was of not much interest to him other than that Lady Stark had belonged to it. However, passing Riverrun meant that he was closer to his destination. As usual, his head-friend refused to give insights into the whole situation but Jon had learned to trust Percy and his instincts.

[3 DAYS PASS]

The sky put on an orange hue as the sun slowly started its descent down the horizon. Birds flew nonchalantly into their nests and went silent. An atmosphere of serenity settled in and the world sighed as it prepared for the impending dark night. For the approaching duo, dusk seemed to be the perfect setting to take in the ruined towers of the fabled Harrenhal castle.

The tallest castle in the history of the Seven kingdoms was said to be built to keep out the giants but Jon had never thought they would be as high as the heavens. In fact, the tower itself looked like a great monster rearing its head and challenging the sky and everything else beneath it.

Jon slowly lowered his hood that hid his northern features well. The last war waged in the Riverlands by the Northern army hadn't left many good things. He held a loose hand on his mound's rein, a hardy and loyal Northern destrier.

Percy's explicit instruction was to wait near the God's Eye Lake and not to make any contact with it or try to cross it. Percy almost seemed absent now and Jon wondered what was taking him so long to get back. With nothing much to do except wait, he began gathering dry twigs and wood. After a few minutes a strong flame fluttered merrily as Jon laid back on his. Soon his consciousness began to slip and he slipped into an unknown dream. Percy's disturbed mind laced the dreams as it explored an era torn in war and bloodshed and an assurance that this is going to happen again got instilled in Jon's head.

Ned had been secretly struggling with Jon's running away for a while now. The warden of North's anguish quickly turned into rage as he looked at Jon's crumbled letter on his desk. His breath chilled the air as tired mind whipped up his dead sister's words: "Promise me Ned….Promise". And indeed he had promised; he had promised to keep his Targaryen-born nephew safe and away from a world that would surely consume him.

As soon as Percy garnered his strength, he arrived in his corporeal form to Jon, who was sound asleep beside a dying fire. His mind felt fuzzy and he was a bit annoyed that Jon had been sharing in on his dreams. Then again, Percy was occupying his body and technically he had no right to be mad. However this did not stop him from flaring up his aura and pushing Jon into the wet banks of the lake. "Wake up, slumbering _Wolf."_

A wet Jon threw sand at Percy which went right through him. "Great to see you in good shape, my _Godliness. _How may I assist you?"

"Ready yourself Jon. We would be facing off against something far sinister now. The isle of Faces lies yonder."

Percy's grim determination resonated in Jon and he got up slicking his wet hair. "Fine, Fine. I'm as ready as I ever will be."

After a few minutes of preparation (Mostly waiting for Jon to dry up), Percy began merging with Jon's body. As the process completed, Jon's eyes glowed like molten Gold and it tore through the night like a beam. Jon's body now wielded Perseus Jackson and he looked as forbidding as a raging Rhino.

Percy entered the water but began walking on the surface, his steps light. The water responded perfectly and seemed eager to assist Percy's wishes. The island in the middle didn't seem particularly threatening. The air was cold and the waves small. Silence layered the whole scene.

Quickly reaching the island, Percy began walking to its center. The grass all around began clearing, moving away to the edges as Percy walked. Suddenly a small Elvish creature materialized from the dark and approached him.

It opened its mouth to the language of the First men: "I am Eephrethe, High Priest to the Great one. My master awaits you, Lord Persues. I will lead you to him, if you will follow me."

Percy nodded and bowed slightly. The creature began walking and after a while veered into a downtrodden path to the left. Soon they reached a wierwood grove, a pool in the middle of it, and ringed by 10 trees. A figure occupied the front of the pool, its back turned to Percy. The figure had the characteristic of being created from mud. Its back was bare and sported long scars. Green blood oozed from one of its many wounds.

Sensing Percy's presence, the being lifted its head and turned. If Percy concentrated enough, he could see the being's metaphysical form whose whole body took up the wierwood circle. A crown made of black stone took up his head and the single emerald that took up its center emitted a primal power.

"Took you long enough." The being grunted with mock exasperation. The being shifted forward and stood facing Percy.

"There were a few things that required my attention. As you may have noticed, the great coalition is almost upon us, Tratos."

"Huh, the coalition. I know its significance, better that you." The being spat, clearly irritated. "For the last millennia we predicted our collective doom and the arrival of the cursed Andals only made it surer. The Seven are arrogant an bunch and although they may have an advantage in the number of followers, they simply lack the raw power to stop the eternal winter."

Percy cleared his throat to speak but the being wasn't finished.

"Your arrival was the biggest surprise I've had in a millennia. So impactful your arrival was that it shook the entire web of destinies and now nothing is sure. The future is muddled and obviously in chaos but now we have a chance, for which I give you the full credit. It is curious that I won't be there to see this future but may our collective legacy stand".

Percy's cold gaze made the being chuckle but he moved closer to the pool. So did Percy. The Elf who had guided Percy, brought a wooden basin to the middle of the clearing. Percy looked into it and he registered that it was filled with blood. _Human Blood_'. Not betraying any reaction to it, Percy dipped his middle and index finger and started to draw runes on the trunks of the trees that surrounded the grove. These were not mere runes but the runes of chaos, the sacred words of creation itself. After observing this for some time, the elder being also started to draw his own runes on the trees closer to him.

"Did you know that this grove was created at the end of the first war, uniting three races of mortals and two races of immortals?" said Tratos, his voice slightly proud.

"You sure are chatty for an immortal who is going to sacrifice himself," Percy said with a hint of annoyance. Tratos was silent after that.

After they were done drawing the strange runes, slow chant emanated from their lips as the wind picked up speed. The chant consisted not merely words but the essence of ideas, of life, of death and most significantly of sacrifice.

Suddenly the dark night started to glow with blinding, crimson light. The light emanated from both of their bodies and the Elf ran away to take cover. Wild magic coursed through their bodies and the wierwood trees began glowing with heat. The event of coalition shook their bodies and many hidden and sleeping powers from the ruins of valyria to the great walls and beyond woke in response to it. The shadow of Assahai seemed to gain life and an aura of pure hate and malice began to emit from the dark stone of the city.

Jon all the while was in a state of induced coma and Percy ascended to his own metaphysical form to guard Jon's sanity. Jon's body was undergoing rapid changes, and if not for Percy, he would have already died an agonizing death. This ritual was molding Jon's body into something that could accommodate world cracking powers and the presence of other-worldly beings.

Percy wielded an aura that was as golden as his own eyes and the elder being had an Emerald green aura. Soon this green aura began losing its strength and slowly touched the golden aura upon which it started flowing into it. The yello one lapped at it with great anticipation and although the green flowed freely, its resistance although futile, was clear. The world bending powers of both the immortasl were battling for dominance and power. One was weak due to his past battles but the other was strong and merely getting started with his battles. Tratos' face twisted in agony but with all his strength, he managed a smile. It wasn't a good one.

Before completely fading away the wielder of the green aura raised its voice "Realize Percy Jackson that you are my successor, the one who can hold the dominion of earth and the only one who can control and lead the '_Archio Dasos'_. That is my clan and in a bit, rightfully yours. For the complete ascension as the unchallenged ruler, you need the throne of Garth, the first unified king of first men, the Lord of Summer and bearer of the Sky. It will not be an easy task but your host holds his blood, the line of true kings. When time comes go to the Lands of Eternal Winter for a gift awaits you there, Lord King of the "_gi chariots_"...1

1Hello guys long time no see huh, sorry for this long delay. Any way another chapter and thank you all for your continuous support and please give me some constructive reviews.

And stay safe and stay home, history is repeating and humanity is at a critical period.


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